Her sisters did not look terribly repentant. Indeed, Caro was doing a very poor job at repressing a fit of giggles.
“I am trying to picture exactly how this all happened,” said Anna, slowly sketching a diagram of odd little loops in the air. “You…him…a tumble into the greenery…Could you kindly describe it again?”
“Put that pen down,” snapped Olivia. “And no, I would rather not run through my egregious lapse in judgment.”
More chortling from her youngest sister, which she silenced with a glare. “I am usually very careful about locking the garden gate.”
“In Anna’s version, Count Alessandro will no doubt strip off all of Emmalina’s clothing,” said Caro. “And then his own, whereupon he would make passionate love to her in the garden.”
“What do you know about making passionate love?” demanded Anna. “I hope you have not been snooping through my reference books again—”
“Not much, I trust,” interjected Olivia, before the discussion could take a dangerous turn. Caro was already too knowledgeable about…a great many things.
“Not as much as I would like,” countered her youngest sister. “I’m nearly eighteen, and it’s time you two stopped treating me like a child.”
Anna and Olivia exchanged uncomfortable looks.
“Of course I’ve read your novels, and know from Papa’s lectures the basics of, er, how men and women join together.”
True, their father had been a firm believer that ladies ought not be ignorant in the ways of the world, much to the dismay of their mother. Such unconventional ideas had been a sore point between them. As had the subject of money. So, mused Olivia, Lady Trumbull’s obsession with propriety and marrying at least one of her daughters off to a man with a plump purse was understandable.
“But as for the specific details, I am a little fuzzy on certain things,” continued Caro. “For example, you said that you could feel the earl was, um, fully aroused when he pressed up against you, Livvie. What, exactly, did you mean by that?”
Drat. Olivia instantly rued letting her tongue have free rein. In her own defense, she had been somewhat agitated when she had recounted the details of the garden confrontation.
“Well, er,…” she stammered, unsure how to go on.
“Oh, Caro is right,” announced Anna. “As she pointed out, she already knows the basics about male anatomy from Papa and the sketches in his scientific notebooks. We might as well explain more fully what happens when carnal desire starts to heat a man’s blood.”
“Very well.” Olivia drew a deep breath. “Er, perhaps you ought to do it. After all, you have the most expertise in describing how men and women arouse each other’s passions.”
“If you wish.” Anna set down her pen. “Now pay attention, Caro. What Olivia meant was that the earl’s pizzle had become larger. It expands when a man becomes sexually aroused, so she was aware of it pressing against her.”
“Could you be more explicit?” asked Caro.
Anna rolled her eyes. “Let me put it this way—his manhood was like a length of hard steel beneath his clothing.”
“That doesn’t sound very comfortable.”
“I don’t think it is,” said Anna. “That’s why men are always in such a hurry to unbutton their breeches when they are in that particular condition.”
Caro frowned. “I’m not sure I follow you.”
“I’m not sure you should,” murmured Olivia. “But do go on, Anna.”
Anna looked around and spotted a branch of unlit candles. “Allow me to demonstrate.” She took one of them in hand and placed it tip up flat against her belly. “As a man’s organ swells, it rises, rather like hot air balloon. The flap of his breeches hold it in position like so.”
Caro scratched a few notes in the margin of the poetry book she had been reading.
“When a man undoes the fastenings of his trousers or breeches, his shaft springs free, like so.” The candle dropped to jut straight out.
Olivia raised a brow. “Perhaps we could make extra pin money by putting on a private show for prospective brides in one of the dressing rooms of Madame Tessin’s dressmaking shop. We could call it ‘The Wedding Night—A Primer to Pizzles and Other Monstrosities.’”
Before Anna could elaborate any further on the mysteries of sex, Lady Trumbull interrupted the lecture by throwing open the study door. “Now girls, it’s extremely unladylike to giggle. I trust y
ou will not indulge in…” As she looked around the room, her gaze came to rest on Anna. “What are you doing with that candle?”
“Oh, I was just explaining how to make the wick last longer,” replied Anna without batting an eye. “A lady should know all the ins and outs of managing domestic affairs.”